Poetry by Jason Kerzinski

          Peter Organisciak CC





I fell in love with the silence


Tonight I wait

Under the eye

In a yellow silence

With streaks of purple

The eye wall the quiet I crave

A reincarnation of a world before

Before bird songs

Bill Evans on the keys

Birthing light

Light bright universe

Where the color of the sky

was never blue

First light pulses

A moment of understood

heartbeats circulating

Blossoms of love

calling out to the streets

My echo plus your echo

blossoming into

Musical arrangements of first light

The eye

Our calling

turning night to day

Beckoning us

To be 




Love Supreme  

Crows mingling with seagulls:
a riff on the space time continuum

Like the DeCarva photo of Coltrane

Hands and instrument

a blurry union

Eyes tightly shut

If you look closely the sheen on his forehead

A gateway to galaxies

Where there are no isms

Where all the old white guys never come to power

Where instruments are the key

Where everyone who picks up a trumpet trombone sousaphone saxophone

blurs out of focus

At warp speed

Traveling backwards and forwards

Communicating with all the world's creatures

Discussing and describing the beauty of a warp 10 sunset

Until the last note





Poetry reading in space

Synapses firing in my mainframe

Startek on the brain

I want to be in the world boldly

This poems debut has taken me to the beta quadrant

Where I recite words to

One dimensional future

humanoids who thought they knew New Orleans

CNN stories of devastation implanted

A 1000 years into the future

Where destruction still overshadows a people

These future beasts

Howling and growling like pundits 

Beam this so called poet back

He knows nothing about New Orleans

Beam it back 

Beam it to it's present

On my balcony smoking cigs and drinking coffee

Where galaxies fade behind my eyelids

Now open

I watch a moment

A woman in a hot pink dress

Bending down

Looking at her reflection in a car window

Oooooh I like my new wig

Her voice

Moving through me

Her smile

Her stride planetary

Her heartbeats the voyages

I've traveled light years

To understand her song




Super Powers 

I'm thinking of a word
On the tip of my tongue

Tastes, like my great grandmother's pierogies

Her underarms undulating like waves as she rolled the dough

Smells, like dandelions that I would rub on my palm as a child

Hoping a flower would sprout from my hands

Sounds, like the first time my father said I love you

His self no longer hidden by his idea of manhood

Sight, a friend's eyes while talking about making art 

our heartbeats intertwined like strands of DNA

Touch, my mothers hand as a child while we waited in line at Dairy Queen to order banana splits

Knowing she'd look over, smile, and pull me closer

I'm thinking of a word

I'm thinking of a word

On the tip of my tongue


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Jason Kerzinski is a poet and photographer living in New Orleans